


Before Midnight

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Sliders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-16
Updated: 2004-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn and Wade, before a New Year's Eve slide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gen X

 

 

Before Midnight

The slide would be at midnight. That fact seemed fitting, since it was New Year's Eve. They were on one of those worlds that strongly resembled the one they called home, except for the usual slight but shocking differences. Rembrandt and Professor Arturo were off dealing with their personal demons which lay in those differences. This left Quinn and Wade to their own devices, killing time before the slide.

"It's so strange to know there's places where I don't exist," Wade said.

Quinn smiled and shot her a teasing look. "You're not going to get all existential on me here, are you?"

"No," she assured him, but even as she said it she directed her gaze at him. "Still, don't you think it's weird? Neither one of us exists on this world."

"And yet here we are," Quinn said. He didn't really want to get into a heavy conversation right before the slide. Time had proven to him that it didn't work to his advantage. He still got a little antsy and excited every time, thinking about the possibilities of where they might end up next. He could see sometimes in the faces of his traveling companions that they'd grown weary of the adventure, but he never did. "You want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Sure, if we've got time," Wade agreed, putting her hands into the pockets of her jacket against the chill of the San Francisco evening.

Quinn checked not his watch, but the readout on the timer. "Right now, we are made of time," he told her, slipping the device back into his pocket before they set off across the damp grass in the quiet of Golden Gate park.

"What would you be doing tonight if we were at home?" Wade asked, glancing at him curiously but then transferring her gaze to the horizon when he caught her.

More thoughts of home. It seemed to be inherent in everything they did these days. It made Quinn feel a little guilty at times. If only he hadn't been so impulsive, if only he'd known the problems resetting the timer on that first slide would cause...a lot of variables, but none of them changed the fact that the others wouldn't be on this journey if it wasn't for him. It felt like a little dig every time he saw the longing in one of them.

In answer to Wade's question, he shrugged. "The students in my program usually had a bash. Might have gone there. Might just as possibly stayed at home." School seemed so far away right now.

Wade laughed. "No way. You would have spent New Year's Eve at home? You?"

"Sure, me. Why not me?" he asked her, amused by her surprise. "What would you be doing?"

"My parents always had this huge party. Invited half the neighborhood. I'd probably be squabbling with my sister over who'd drunk more champagne, and we'd both be scouting the room for the cutest boy to kiss at midnight." Wade's tone was confessional, and she looked a little embarrassed. "It sounds a bit shallow, I guess, but it was really fun."

"Sounds it," Quinn agreed, and sighed. "I'm sorry you can't be there."

"It's not your fault," she said, not giving it a second thought. He didn't argue. "Anyway, it's not so bad where I am right now."

"Oh yeah?" he questioned, a bit teasingly.

"Yeah," she agreed, with a smug sort of smile. This was what they did -- half teased, half flirted. Nothing ever came of it, and Quinn was pretty sure that was by mutual agreement. "I always said I wanted to travel the world someday. Now I'm seeing worlds instead."

"Semantics," Quinn said, dismissively, his grin growing wider.

"Exactly," she replied, and looked at him. It wasn't a fleeting glance this time. Their eyes locked and the moment seemed to stretch between them. But then she seemed to get embarrassed by it, and let out a soft, self-conscious laugh and looked away, shaking her head.

"So what were the qualifications?" Quinn asked, knowing it was up to him to lighten up their discussion.

"Qualifications for what?" Wade asked, a little breathlessly.

"Cutest guy at the party. Getting kissed at midnight. At the Wells family party." He reminded her of what she'd been saying at New Years' at home.

Wade shrugged, and rolled her eyes. "Who knows," she said.

"You don't want to talk about this," he said, nudging her with his shoulder teasingly. "Why not?"

"I just don't," she said. She didn't sound irritated. It was just a statement. "I don't ask you who you think is pretty. We don't have that kind of relationship."

"Don't we?" he asked, and she shot him a look like she thought he was crazy. "I mean, everything we've been through, I thought we could talk about everything. We're friends. Maybe best friends. I don't want there to be topics that are off-limits."

"That's not what I'm saying," Wade protested.

He raised his eyebrows at her, but she just shook her head. Quinn let the subject go. "Have you ever walked across the Golden Gate bridge?"

"Of course not," Wade replied.

"People do," Quinn told her.

"Have you?" she shot back, and he just grinned until she started to grin back. "What was it like? It's so high up."

"The wind was incredible," he said. "But so was the view." They were coming up on a park bench, and he glanced at it. "You want to sit down?"

"Okay," Wade agreed, and they did, slightly facing each other. "That's what's so great about you, Quinn. You don't think that things are too crazy, you just do them. You go for it. Whole-heartedly. No regrets."

"Oh, there might be a few," he admitted.

"Oh, really?" Wade asked, teasingly. "Like what?"

He tried to think of something he could tell her. "I wish you could be there," he said softly. "At the party. At home, for the holidays. I wish you hadn't gotten dragged into all this."

"But it's been the adventure of a lifetime," Wade protested. Not trying to make him feel better, he saw, but genuinely. "A hundred lifetimes."

"That's how I feel," he said. "But I didn't think...I know you want to go home."

"I do," she admitted. "There are some days when that's the only thing I can think of. But that doesn't mean I can't be happy, too. It's like the duality of life."

"Spoken like a true Gemini," he said.

"I thought you thought astrology was silly," she reminded him.

"I do," he said, nodding. "I don't know why I said that."

"Because you want to give me a hard time," she said, but she was smiling as she said it.

"I live for it," he admitted, still teasing her.

"Must be almost midnight," Wade said, looking past him. Quinn slipped the timer from his pocket and checked it. She was right. "Here come the professor and Rembrandt," she said, getting to her feet, tugging her jacket down.

Quinn turned and looked back at the figures approaching in the distance, then looked down at the timer again. "So you don't wish you had someone to kiss at midnight?" he asked.

"I could always kiss you," she offered.

He knew if he raised his head and looked her in the eye, she would do it. He just had to decide if that was what he wanted. It was so complicated between them, because they were friends, because they had to keep sliding together. It was almost like an office romance -- it'd be risky to go for it, in case they messed it up.

Still, it was New Year's Eve. It was tradition.

Quinn looked at her. "You could," he agreed. Wade's eyes widened, surprised, and it only made him smile. He wrapped an arm around her and pressed his lips against hers. It felt warm. It felt good. It felt like he thought it would to finally be home.

Rembrandt and Arturo shot the two of them curious looks as they broke apart. "It's midnight," Quinn said, as though by way of explanation.

"Happy new year, indeed, Mr. Mallory," Arturo said.

"Time to slide," Rembrandt added.

"Maybe this will be the one," Quinn said softly, thinking of home, as he pressed the button on the timer, opening the wormhole with a rush of wind and light.

End.

 

 

 


End file.
